The Worst Bras in London
by thisRANDOMperson
Summary: Parody. Ms. Lovett doesn't sell pies, but you can probably guess what she DOES sell. Rating is due to fidgety munchkins who think bras are gross (get over yourself). R&R.


**Hello my friends. My faithful friends. Speak to me, friends. This means review.**

**This was made with my friend Kerbie (who will be famous someday!! :D) and of course, myself.**

**I don't own Sweeney Todd. But if I did, I would twist the movie so bad XDD**

**Enjoy ;P**

Sweeney Todd mindlessly walks through the streets of London in search of his old home. He sees a guy smiling, and when he is not looking, he gives him the finger and continues on. Finally, he comes to the corner of the road at 186 Fleet Street. Yes, it was his long-lost home. It looks just like it had fifteen years ago…. He then figures out he is in the middle of the street when he is nearly run over by a carriage. He straightens up, and walks into the shop.

As soon as he enters, he makes an announcement: "I'm not Benjamin Barker, just so all of you know. Benny was adorable, but I'm drop-dead GORGEOUS!!" Ms. Lovett, the owner of the shop, throws down her threads, and screams, "OMG, a _customer!_" Before he can escape, Sweeney is violently thrown into a pink booth.

"Wait, wot's yer rush? Wot's yer hurry?" Ms. Lovett sings in a merry tone. "You gave me such a fright – I thought you wos a ghost! Half a minute, can't yeh? Sit!"

"Erm…. I am." Sweeney grumbles.

"Sit yeh down!"

"I _am._"

"_Sit!!_"

"Curse you, woman. _I BLOODY AM!!!_"

"All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks. Did you come here for a bra, sir?"

"Yeah, 36 triple D, please – wait, what?"

Ms. Lovett walks behind the counter and picks out a large collection of bras in various sizes and colors. She glares at the bras, shaking her head. "Do forgive me if the style's a little vague. Wot was that?" She looks to her right to find two perverted men strapping the bras to their heads. She grabs a book and walks towards them. "But you'd think we have the plague from the way that _women_ keep avoiding. NO you DON'T!"

Pop!

Pop!

The men run out of the shop, not wanting to be hit with a book – again. Ms. Lovett returns to the counter to look through the bra sizes. She tosses a 36 triple D to Sweeney, who glares at the polka-dots. Ms. Lovett grunts. "Heaven knows I try, sir! But there's no one comes in even to admire! Right you are sir, please don't put this in the dryer!" She tosses a free pink bra to him, and he groans, "Why is everything pink?...." He looks at the bra with dismay and then sees the words on the price tag – "FREE!"

"Mind you, I could hardly blame them! These are probably the worst bras in London! I know why nobody cares to take them! I _should_ know! I sell 'em! But good? NO!" She punches Sweeney for no apparent reason, and he begins to cry. Ms. Lovett takes no notice and continues singing. "The worst bras in London…. Even though you stuff, the worst bras in London! If you doubt it…. That's enough!"

Sweeney removes his vest and shirt and everything Londoners wear, and then puts on the bra. Ms. Lovett just drools at his muscular, scarred chest. She snaps out of it when Sweeney yells, "IT'S TOO SMALL!!"

"Is that just annoying? You have to destroy it." She somehow pulls out a flamethrower and burns it, even though Sweeney is still wearing it. He lets out a shrill, high-pitched scream, and throws the burning bra into the sink. Ms. Lovett returns the flamethrower to its proper place between the bazooka and machine gun, shutting the droor quickly, hoping no one noticed. "It's nothing but busting. Here, wear this. You'll need it!" She throws a robe that says "PINK" all over it in his face, and he reluctantly puts it on.

"The worst bras in London! And no wonder with the price of cloth!... What it is, when you get it. Never thought I'd live to see the day! Girls would think it was a treat finding old, holey bras, wot old hags use to hold their sweets! Ms. Mooney has a bra shop."

Sweeney's eyebrows lift. "Oh yeah, I remember her…. Wasn't her first name Victoria?"

"Does her business, but I've noticed somethin' weird. Lately, all her neighbors' "boobs" have disappeared." Sweeney chokes loudly, and screams again when stuffing is thrown at him. "Have to hand it to her, wot I calls lack of laws. Making "boobies" into bras." Sweeney curses, remembering when he put on that bra…. Suddenly, Ms. Lovett ran up to him, holding up a handful of stuffing and a bra, and Sweeney nods in understanding.

"Wouldn't do in _my_ shop! Just the thought of it's enough to make you wig…. Out. And I'm tellin' ya, them "boobs" are mighty big!" Sweeney grins, eyes wide, and exclaims, "_WOW!_" Ms. Lovett smacks him and continues her song. "Finding bras is gettin' hard, sir. Gettin' harder than the worst bras in London. Has a wire, but no support. Is that just heart-breaking? And no, I'm not kidding! It looks like it's aching, and cleavage – well pity, no shape of its own! With straps that are thin…. They're the worst bras in London! Ah, sir…. That's your bra. That's _your_ bra!"

Sweeney looks at it, grinning. "Oh, I know! It _soooo_ suits my tastes."

Ms. Lovett snickers. "Next up – thongs!"

**Dun dun dunnn…. Well there it is. SO. Send some reviews, hopefully lovely ones. And I plan on making more parodies of songs from this movie so…. Give ideas! I have one for No Place Like London. You see, I hate the state of Texas…. Lol. Well thanks for reading. :)**


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